


Thunderstorm

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Series: Flufftober 2020 [29]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Comfort, Comforting Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Heaven, Other, Panic Attacks, Scared Aziraphale (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Aziraphale has a sensory panic attack during a thunderstorm. Crowley comforts him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Flufftober 2020 [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952344
Comments: 6
Kudos: 71





	Thunderstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for description of a panic attack.

Aziraphale looked at his partner, who was sound asleep. He had no idea how Crowley managed to sleep through the raging storm, but he did. It was a typical Summer storm, and most humans would think nothing of it. Some people, like Crowley, even liked storms, found them relaxing.

Not Aziraphale. 

Lightning crackled through the clouds outside, and Aziraphale flinched. He was sitting stiffly on the bed, nearly frozen in fear. He wanted to cry out, but he didn't didn't want to wake Crowley. Instead, he bit his tongue until he bled. 

Thunder rumbled lowly, and lightning flashed again. A quiet whimper escaped Aziraphale's lips as he clenched his fists in fear. It was too loud, too chaotic, too terrifying. 

He had always been the braver one between him and his companion, but he wasn't without fear. In truth, he had always been afraid of Heaven. He knew he had never been a good angel, and while he had never wanted to be a perfect soldier, he always had a whisper of fear in the back of his mind. He was trained to be fierce, and he knew how merciless Heaven could be. 

Most of the time, he didn't think about it. But during thunderstorms, as lightning splintered across the horizon, he was reminded of Sodom, Gomorrah, Jericho….the Great Flood.

Maybe one day Heaven would decide that he deserved to be punished. Or maybe they would decide to flatten another village, another city, another world. Maybe they would destroy Crowley, who had already Fallen. At least if Aziraphale Fell, he'd be a demon, unpleasant as it may be. How much further down can someone Fall than Hell? 

"Aziraphale?" someone, Crowley, whispered gently. 

He hadn't realized he had been shaking. 

"Aziraphale, breathe. It's alright, it's alright," Crowley said slowly. 

Crowley wrapped his arms around him, squeezing slightly. The firmness helped steady him, and he leaned into Crowley's hold. Crowley was smaller than him, but he could be strong, and he held Aziraphale as he trembled. 

Technically, neither of them needed to sleep, so Crowley held him until dawn, and the storm passed. All the while, Crowley whispered soothingly, and held him against his chest, grounding him. The world was overwhelming, but Crowley was constant; loving, caring, compassionate. 

Eventually, Aziraphale relaxed. His fists unclenched, leaving moon shaped marks where his manicured nails had dug into his palms. The morning birds had begun to chirp, and sunlight steamed in through the curtains. 

"I'm going to bring you tea, alright?" Crowley said softly. 

Aziraphale nodded slowly. He didn't want Crowley to leave, but he knew he'd be back. 

A few minutes later, Crowley returned with a mug of steaming tea. Aziraphale sipped it and watched as Crowley sat back down on their bed. 

"Thank you," he told him earnestly. 

Crowley yawned. 

"S'nothing, angel," he replied.

"You're tired," Aziraphale observed. 

"Nah, just a bit," Crowley shrugged. 

"You should sleep." 

"Eh. Maybe later. I'm up now, might as well stay up."

"I love you, Crowley. You're too good to me," Aziraphale murmured gratefully. 

Crowley ducked his head. 

"Love you too, angel," he mumbled.


End file.
